


GTHB 4/25 Sleepy Nuzzling

by Blanketempress



Series: Good Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, ok it's fluff this time don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanketempress/pseuds/Blanketempress
Summary: AU in which Anja isn't just a rotten bitch !!(continuation of the previous prompt)





	GTHB 4/25 Sleepy Nuzzling

“I think I need help”

It wasn’t easy to give up on your rage, to give up on your pride. To redirect them, would be more like it. You still feel like you’re burning inside but now you have a target, and one that makes sense.

Julia heard you, heard your call. Answered it, in a less irritating way than her previous sorry excuses of help. For once she listened, for once she shut her pretty mouth. It took hours. Days. It took all her patience, all of her warmth. She looks like a mess as she dozes off next to you, face still tensed somehow, breath not as deep and calm as it should be. As if you drained her of all energy, like some kind of parasite.

You tilt your head, resting it on her shoulder, to avoid looking at her you stare at the carpet. You gave her truths and unveiled half lies. Now you feel just as empty as you were when they caught you, you’re back to the empty shell you were reduced to before you learned to fan your own hatred. Your fist clenches by itself at the thought. You can’t let them. They took everything from you now they will pay.

You grit your teeth and close your eyes, inhaling sharply. Who. Who and why. It’s hard to put names and summon images in your mind, it would be so much easier to just burn down the whole damn world.

You exhale. If you can’t trust yourself, how can you tell who your targets should be? Who is allowed to tell you the difference between friends and foes?

It’s so much more painful to fight yourself than it was to give in. Everything tells you that this is a foe sitting next to you. Someone you beat easily before, someone you could get rid of so she doesn’t stand in your way anymore.

Almost shyly you press your face on the soft skin of her neck, leaving a kiss on her collarbone. Skin on skin, hand in hand. It’s far from the almost embarrassingly steamy kissing sessions you used to have before, back in the days, when you were still growing instead of picking up shards of yourself. It’s sweeter, more bitter. Now you both know that you are anything but immortal, that the next fight could be your last. Now you know that you could lose each other, even more easily than you did eight years ago.

Her breathing changed but it took you a moment to notice. There’s a small smile on her face and she radiates this weird warmth once more. You decide to look down, burying your face in her neck again. There’s a kiss on your hair, a hand rubbing your back.

“Do you want to stay for the night?”

She already knows the answer to her question. You’ve been practically living in her flat for the last three days. Terrified of being away for too long, terrified of seeing her changing her mind about you, of her turning her back on you.

You promised to go see someone, you can’t just dump all of your problems on her, she knows it. It took you some time to understand it. Boundaries, emotional weights. Things no one bothered to tell you about.

“Do you think we can really have this?” The question is yours this time. You answered no to this so many times when you asked yourself.

She laughs “Oh, we can have it all. And more, if you want” Her tone is teasing, like it used to be, then she sees your face and looks almost embarrassed.

For a moment you stare at her, wondering where the trap was in her sentence, how it would turn against you. Then you start laughing. It’s short, it feels awkward, it kind of hurts. You’re still smiling when you look up, see how bright the expression on her face is.

You want to hide, you press your forehead against her neck again, giggling. Giggling.

There’s nothing holding you back contrary to what you feared. No voice telling you that you’re pitiful, no whispers telling you of how she’ll betray you if you get too close. Not yet at least. You can’t see her, you feel how strong her embrace is, you hear her sigh and a relieved chuckle. She holds you close, you push her down, under you, finding through the coals a bit of that old flame of yours.

Maybe she won’t save you. Maybe you can’t be saved. But here and now you’re willing to try, willing to allow her to reach out to you. Willing to try to reach out to her.


End file.
